The Wrath of the Unchained
Chapter 45 - The Weight of a Kingdom

Chapter 45: Chapter 45 - The Weight of a Kingdom

The air was heavy with the scent of dry earth and smoldering wood as Lusweti stepped away from the tent, seeking the quiet of the night. The camp stretched out before him, a sea of flickering torches illuminating the disciplined figures of soldiers preparing for battle. Some sat sharpening their weapons, their faces cast in flickering shadow. Others spoke in low, tense voices, murmuring prayers to ancestors or sharing quiet laughter to mask their unease.

Lusweti took a slow breath, trying to steady the storm within him. Though outwardly composed, his mind churned. Was this the right path?

He was no coward—his courage had never been in question. But bravery alone did not make a great leader. He had seen too many men rush into battle with confidence, only to lead their people to slaughter. He would not be one of them.

His fingers clenched into fists. What lies beyond Almeida? What power does he truly serve?

Almeida was no ordinary man. His exile from Portugal had not stripped him of influence. If anything, it had made him more dangerous. He moved through the world with unseen backers, men who sought power through trade, slavery, and war. Defeating him was not just about Kilwa—it was about standing against forces that could swallow Nuri whole if they were not prepared.

And what came after?

Even if they won, securing Kilwa would be a nightmare. Lusweti imagined it—constant patrols, fortifications, political negotiations. Protecting the port would be a full-time job. Could they even hold it without outside powers breathing down their necks?

His stomach twisted. Wars were fought with swords, but empires crumbled from within. The moment peace came, the real battle would begin.

Internal divisions already lurked beneath the surface. The people of Nuri had come from different clans, different traditions. Some still hesitated to fully embrace their new identity. He had seen the wary glances between old rivals, the unspoken questions in their eyes.

Nuri’s future wouldn’t be shaped by war alone. It would be built on roads, on communication, on governance. And those who had different visions of the kingdom would clash. If they were not united, they would fall to outside forces just as surely as they would to an invading army.

He sighed, already feeling the exhaustion settle deep into his bones. How much longer could he keep this up?

After this war, he would step back. He had to. If Nuri was to survive, it needed more than just a warrior—it needed a ruler.

He heard footsteps behind him.

"Lusweti," General Simiyu’s voice was steady, though there was a quiet concern beneath it. "The men are prepared. They are waiting for your command."

Lusweti turned, his gaze settling on the hardened general. "Tell me, Simiyu," he said quietly. "Do you ever wonder if all of this is worth it?"

Simiyu studied him for a moment before responding. "If we hesitate now, we will regret it later. But that doesn’t mean the doubts go away."

Lusweti let out a slow exhale. "I am not afraid of battle. I am afraid of what comes after. War ends when the last sword is sheathed, but peace is fragile. We are building something greater than just a kingdom. And the moment we stop moving forward, it will all crumble."

Simiyu nodded. "Then we ensure it does not."

Lusweti glanced back at the camp, at the flickering torches, the soldiers preparing for the fight ahead. His men believed in him. He would not let them down.

Still, his mind whispered warnings. If we do not plan for the future now, we will lose everything.

Far to the North of Nuri...

The night air was dry, carrying only the faintest traces of moisture from distant rivers. The landscape had changed—what had once been thick forests was now harsh terrain, barren and unyielding.

Khisa sat near the fire, listening to the quiet chatter of his warriors. Their bodies had transformed over the years, hardened by relentless training. The boys, once lean and fragile, now moved with the grace and power of true warriors. The women, once underestimated, had become forces of nature—quick, ruthless, and precise.

Zuberi stretched, groaning as she rolled her shoulders. "I’d take the forests over this any day," she muttered. "At least then, we had food."

A few laughed.

"You just want trees to hide behind," one of the men teased.

Zuberi snorted. "Strategy is not hiding."

The conversation drifted, complaints about the heat, the dryness, the lack of water. But beneath it all, there was pride. They had come far.

Khisa, however, was focused elsewhere.

’Ayaan, assess our progress.’

The response was immediate.

[Your team has reached the level of an elite force. They have surpassed normal warriors in endurance, reflexes, and combat ability. However, to grow further, real battle experience is required.]

Khisa exhaled. "I had hoped to push them even further before that time came."

[Experience is the final teacher.]

Khisa shifted his focus. "What of Africa’s wars during this time?"

A flood of information filled his mind.

The Ottoman Empire and the Portuguese battled for control of East Africa. The Adal Sultanate waged war against Ethiopia, while European traders pushed deeper into the continent, seeding conflict wherever they went.

Africa was a fractured land. North, West, and South—all suffered from the encroaching hands of slavers and foreign influence. Kingdoms rose and fell, but few realized the danger closing in from beyond their shores.

"What is your recommendation?" Khisa asked.

[If Africa is to survive, it cannot remain divided. If the ideals of Nuri were embraced by multiple kingdoms, the entire continent could rise. If not, history will repeat itself.]

Khisa clenched his fists. He had known this. But now, it was clear.

One kingdom alone was not enough. If Nuri stood alone, it would eventually be swallowed.

If they were to survive, Africa had to rise together.

The night stretched on, the only sounds the crackling of the fire and the distant howls of unseen predators. Khisa sat with his warriors, their faces illuminated by the flickering flames. The air was dry, heavy with dust, and the exhaustion of the journey clung to their limbs. But the unease in his chest wasn’t from fatigue—it was from the knowledge he had just gained.

His people had trained for years, their bodies hardened, their minds sharpened. But what good was strength if they fought alone?

He exhaled slowly, then spoke. "I want to ask you all something."

The conversation quieted. Zuberi, leaning back on her elbows, turned to him with a raised eyebrow. "What, are you finally going to tell us where we’re headed?"

Some of the others chuckled, but the curiosity was genuine.

Khisa stared at the fire, his expression unreadable. "I’ve been thinking about our place in this world. About Nuri’s future." He let the silence settle before continuing. "We’ve trained, we’ve fought, we’ve built something great—but it’s not enough. The wars in our lands aren’t just our problem. They’re everywhere. If we only focus on Nuri, we’ll be alone when the real threats come."

The mood shifted. Some warriors exchanged glances, others straightened, sensing the gravity in his words.

Ndengu, his arms crossed, narrowed his eyes. "Are you saying we should get involved in wars beyond our borders?"

Khisa met his gaze. "I’m saying that if we don’t, Nuri will fall just as quickly as a tiny village. Right now, foreigners are pushing into our lands. They are waging wars across the entirety of our continent. If we remain divided, we will fall."

Zuberi scoffed. "And what are we supposed to do? March into every kingdom and tell them to hold hands?"

A few chuckled, but Khisa shook his head. "No. But think about it—if other kingdoms adopted the same ideals as Nuri, if they grew strong enough to stand on their own, we wouldn’t be fighting alone. The more stable and independent kingdoms there are, the harder it will be for outsiders to exploit us."

Simba, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke. "That’s a long road, Khisa. Even if we convinced some of them, wars don’t just stop because we want them to."

Khisa nodded. "I know. But we don’t have to stop them. We just have to plant the idea—show them a different path. If Nuri becomes something undeniable, something successful, they will come to us. And when they do, we will help them rise."

Silence followed. The warriors weren’t just considering his words—they were feeling them.

Nia, one of the younger warriors, exhaled. "So what you’re saying is... we’re not just fighting for Nuri. We’re fighting for the entire world."

Khisa’s eyes burned with conviction. "Yes."

Another silence. Then, slowly, Ndengu grinned. "Well, if we’re going to change the world, we’d better get moving. I’d rather not do it on an empty stomach."

Laughter rippled through the group, but beneath it was a newfound resolve.

Khisa looked at them—truly looked at them. These warriors, these people, were more than just fighters. They were the seeds of something far greater.

And together, they would make history.

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.